15449/...Unless you ask.

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...Unless you ask.
Date of Scene: 09 August 2023
Location: American Museum Nat. His.
Synopsis: Black Cat is caught in a sticky situation. Things get a lot stickier when Satana pops in to help out.
Cast of Characters: Black Cat, Satana

Black Cat has posed:
This was //supposed// to be a fairly straightforward heist. Black Cat had been hired by a group of American political extremists with deep pockets to infiltrate the Museum of Natural History and steal a set of dinosaur bones. The group wants these bones, of course, so that they can analyze them and conclusively prove that dinosaurs never existed on earth.
The catburglar had easily made her way in after dark, avoiding security guards and cameras all the while. Disappointingly, none of the displays seem to be coming to life. She found the bones and deactivated the alarm system before trailing back to open a back door and allow the men sent to carry the bones out into the museum.

Unfortunately, Felicia's arrogance about how beneath her this mission is comes back to bite her. As she lounges, waiting for the men to finish up, her body is suddenly wracked by electricity as one of the men shoots a taser at her. In the blink of an eye, three other men are on her, carrying cords that they use to quickly bind her.

Eventually, Felicia ends up bound to a chair in front of the caveman display. Cords wrap around her body, with her arms trapped behind her back and her legs secured to the chair. Any protests have been stifled by stuffing a rag in her mouth and winding tape around her head several times. The backstabbing men grin at each other and continue their work, finishing up so they can leave her behind as the scapegoat.
Satana has posed:
Satana's arrival is actually heralded by quite a bit. It's just that the noises that herald her presence and approach are so out of the milieu of the sneak thief double-crossing type that it takes a while to register that there's danger of discovery.

It starts with the clack of heels on the marble floors, in a stately pace like a runway model cosplaying some kind of aristocrat. As that grows, there's the added sound of fine fabric rustling against fine fabric. This is so out of place that by the time people realize that someone is coming, the sound is just around the corner.

"Earl, you hear that?"

"Sure do, Larry. Daryl! Get behind that display and break out your gun!"

Clack. Clack. Clack. Like a metronome counting down the lives of three hoods as the busily go about their hood lives, drawing weapons and readying themselves to capture and tie up another.

And she arrives.

Tall, flame-red hair, voluptuous without sagging, encased in a tight evening gown of red satin, bunching and clinging at all the key places to make its presence effectively useless. Bare of arm and bare of one leg from ankle to well above the hip. Cut high enough to make it pretty certain she's either wearing an agressive Y-thong or is going commando.

"Hello?" Satana's thrilling contralto curls up in the reptile brain of mere mortals, teasing and inviting *thoughts*. *SUCH THOUGHTS*. "I am so terribly sorry, I can't seem to find the powder room? Would one of you kind gentlemen..."

She picks Larry to look at, licking her lips a moment before continuing. "...Care to accompany me there? I would be ever so..." Her voice falls into a rapturous, voiced whisper. "...Grateful."
Black Cat has posed:
At the sound of...heels clacking across the floors, Felicia perks up, lifting up her head to try and peer around the men. She's been working on getting herself free, but the hoods actually did an effective job binding her, even winding tape around her hands to make it difficult to use the claws built into the fingers of her suit. The suit she's wearing is futuristic, like black bodysuit armor, clinging tightly to her body and affording her ample protection.

And then the mystery person emerges...and it's a tall, gorgeous woman? Felicia's eyes go //wiiiiiide.// She doesn't think she's ever seen a woman so gorgeous. Neither do Larry, Earl, or Daryl. They stare at her, guns and cords meant for subduing the woman forgotten in theirt hands.

"I, uh..." Larry starts to say, staring at Satana. Earl seems to snap out of it first, lifting his gun and pointing it at the redheaded woman. "Don't move and we won't hurt you," he hisses, bumping Larry with a shoulder. "Tie her up, moron!"

The other two men finally remember their purpose and move in, reaching for Satana.
Satana has posed:
Satana's reaction is not what one would expect of such a situation. Generally thugs don't expect their future victims to laugh. Yet that's what she does. A nice, musical chuckle, verging on a giggle, with a mischievous smile she hastily covers with her hand.

"Oh, you guys!" she says, waving dismissively. "Always playing around."

She straightens out her face and waves her right hand, fingers slightly bent, in a famous style.

"These are not the droids you're looking for."

Again, prey is not acting how the predator wants and this is disconcerting to said predator. Earl is nonplussed at the magic death wand not having its desired effect and ... instead getting a bad Jedi routine.

"Huh. It worked in that movie. Oh, right!" Satana's face brightens up. She makes another hand gesture, looking straight at Earl. And it must be a trick of the light, but for just a moment Felicia can see what looks like burning embers of Hellish flame in the pits of her pupils.

"You will shoot that one."

Right hand in the Jedi move. Left hand pointing at Daryl.

And this time it works. Earl, face slack, turns to Daryl, raises his gun, and shoots his partner in crime in cold blood, straight in the gut.

The loud squeal of agony and the blood spraying out behind the second gunman snaps Earl out of his trance and he stares aghast at his gun and at Daryl before throwing it away from him like it's a live scorpion.

"What the f...?"

And Satana walks past the pair of stunned criminals to peer down at Felicia.

"My, aren't you a delicious little morsel?"

Leaving Earl and Larry behind her, apparently unconcerned with their actions.
Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's eyes go even wider as Satana just waves her hands at the men with guns, somehow getting Earl to shoot Daryl in the stomach. She gasps, sitting back in her chair, fear starting to grow. She hadn't been worried about these three bozos - she could handle them. But this redheaded woman seems to be something else entirely.

As Satana moves in to peer down at Felicia, she stares back up, worry in her eyes. With her back to the criminals now, Larry stares daggers at Satana. Earl is on his knees, trying to help stem the flow of blood from Daryl. Larry pulls a switchblade from a pocket and flicks the blade out before rushing at Satana, murder in his eyes as he attempts to literally stab her in the back.

Felicia sees Larry coming and frantically tries to warn Satana, yelping through her gag. "Mmmm! Mmmmph!"
Satana has posed:
Satana's eyes roll, paired with a subtle shake of her head. She closes them, then opens them and now there's no doubt. They're glowing a baleful red. As Larry makes his lunge, she reaches into the air almost casually, pulling back her arm ...

Well it looks like a dog. A bulldog to be specific. But a bulldog with six eyes. And where all the teeth are external, razor-sharp fangs, that interlock in ways that would slice through flesh like a pair of pinking shears. And horn-like protrusions at each joint. Plus two actual horns on the head. Oh, and red glowing eyes because OF COURSE it has red glowing eyes.

This she casually tosses over her shoulder in Larry's path before crouching down before Felicia.

"What's your name, little one?" she asks with a gentleness that is belied by the screaming agony of the man being turned to hamburger while alive behind her, screaming for mercy and receiving none.

"Are you tied up willingly or unwillingly?" Her face breaks into a smile that is as beguiling as it is evil. "Because if it was willing, I'd be happy to continue along the course your friends have set. I could even teach you a thing or ten."

Larry's voice stills and the 'dog' turns its attention to Earl.

"No!" Satana's voice snaps like a whip and that vicious dog cows and whimpers. "That one is mine. I need one alive if I'm to feed, and I'd rather not feed from this tasty morsel in front of me."

Her cruel eyes lock gazes with Felicia again ... and soften.

"There's better things to do with her."
Black Cat has posed:
Felicia's eyes would stop being wide and scared if horrifying things stopped happening right in front of her. They stay wide as Satana tosses out some kind of Hellhound bulldog that begins to devour Larry.

Those eyes, jade-green and slightly less fearful than before, meet Satana's red ones. Her gaze occasionally flicks over behind Satana at the dying man before returning to the face of her savior(?). At the questions about her name and if she's willingly tied up, Felicia shakes her head twice. She attempts to tell her how 'unwilling' she is but it comes out heavily muffled, sounding more like 'nwnnmng.'

She gulps as the scary woman talks about 'feeding' and nods at the idea of 'better' things to do with her. Those wide eyes look down at her bonds meaningfully before returning to Satana's face. Her eyebrows rise, asking a silent question.
Satana has posed:
Earl also catches the bit about feeding, even over the begging cries of his friend. Giving up on Daryl, however, he stands, his hands coated in his friend's blood and gobbets of innards, staring at Satana with wide-open eyes.

"You stay away from me you b..."

The word doesn't escape. Not the intended one. "...eauty. Come here. I got what ails ya."

Confused metaphor aside, Satana seems to get the message and slithers across to Earl, locking gazes with him as he stands there, staring like a deer in spotlights.

No. Deer in spotlights don't sport what Earl is sporting in his trouser department.

She slides alongside him, behind him, murmuring something in his ear that makes him grin like an idiot, opening his mouth to receive a kiss.

A simple kiss.

A kiss that by all bodily signals is intensely pleasurable. VERY intensely pleasurable. Climactically so, in fact, his eyes widening in surprise.

Then, as the kiss goes on, Earl seems to ... shrink somehow. The eyes widen in fear now. And in pain. And when Satana pulls back from the kiss, some kind of purple vapour comes from his body, which collapses to the ground as a desiccated husk. The vapour forms a butterfly-like glowing shape before Satana, who plucks it from the air and pops it into her mouth, chewing and swallowing with relish.

"Ooh!" The creature's voice ... for it's increasingly obvious Satana isn't just some woman ... is breathy. Orgasmic, if the shaking at the knees is anything to go by. "Child abuser. Wife abuser. Murderer. And is that a hint of treason? Delectable!"

She stirs Earl's dried, withered body with a slippered foot.

"OK, Dargrar. You can eat what's left of all three."

And Satana, now positively glowing, doing the so-called walk of shame, glides back to Felicia.

Is she in the mood for dessert?
Black Cat has posed:
From the chair she's bound to, Felicia stares at the bizarre scene occuring in front of her. She's entirely forgotten about trying to escape, instead ending up enraptured by Satana.

Though she's not sure what she //had// been expecting, Felicia certainly wasn't expecting a kiss between Satana and Earl. She leans forward, staring hard.

When Earl turns into a corpse suddenly, though, the catburglar recoils, suddenly horrified. It's even worse when Satana starts making her way back to Felicia, who assumes that //she// must be the next menu item.

"Mmm mm!" she begs, shaking her head rapidly. Her white hair bounces as she struggles hard against the bonds, trying and failing to activate the claws at her fingertips.
Satana has posed:
The creature, with her red glowing eyes, and sultry looks that now look more threatening than sexy (and still look overwhelmingly sexy, just to hint at the threat level), grows talons on the tips of her fingers as she approaches Felicia. Taloned fingers reach out when she arrives, swiftly moving against the caught-up thief...

...and slice the bonds.

"There you go little one. Now what's your name? I'm Satana Hellstrom, of the Boston Hellstroms."

Is there a conversational version of whiplash? If there is, Felicia has just experienced it.
Black Cat has posed:
For a moment, Felicia freezes, her eyes closed, as she waits for the killing blow to come. Those talons look sharp - definitely sharp enough to kill her.

But then, somehow, she's free. Felicia opens her eyes and glances down at herself. She immediately leaps to her feet and rips off the tape covering her mouth so she can spit out the rag inside. "Ugh!" she groans, working her jaw and massaging it with her fingers. "No class, these guys. Should never have taken the job."

Then she seems to remember the whole, you kinow, scarifying demon lady near her and takes a step back, her own claws popping out from the fingertips of her suit.

"I'm Black Cat - catburglar extraordinaire," she says warily, keeping her distance for now. "Are you going to eat me next? I'm not interested, girlie." A beat. "I mean, you're //gorgeous// and I'd definitely swipe right on you - but if you want someone to eat, there's all kinds of random security guards I could feed to you."
Satana has posed:
Satana's form is switching back piece by piece to the ordinary (if stunning) woman that entered at the beginning of Felicia's private little horror movie showing.

Only it's not a movie. The scent of blood and viscera. The low moan of the dying Daryl, not even able to properly scream as he's devoured alive by a dog from Hell. The blood. Oh the blood. And that bloodless, dried corpse, face frozen in an expression that mixes purest lustful pleasure with raw pain and fear. This is real. And it's right in front of her, as is the source of the sudden chaos that erupted all around Felicia's life of a sudden.

"Oh, darling, I've already fed. I only need one every week or two and I'm good to go."

A wicked grin flashes over her face as she openly looks Felicia up and down, obviously, almost arrogantly, undressing the sneak thief with her eyes.

"I've got different kinds of eating in mind for you if you're up to it..."

She winks salaciously, licking her lips.

"What do you say? You and me go out on a date after I pick up the thing I came for, and we'll close out the night tangled together, sweating, panting at the amazing big-O we've each just experienced, and looking up at the ceiling fan and wondering how your panties managed to get caught up on two blades. Sound good?"
Black Cat has posed:
Somehow, the overt flirting from the scariest woman that Felicia has ever met actually brings a slight flush to her pale cheeks, the pink standing out against the black suit and white hair. "You...what?"

It's so rare to see Felicia Hardy flustered, and yet that's what she is now. Is Satana very, very obviuously dangerous? Yes. But somehow, that only draws Felicia in more.

"I'll help you steal whatever you need to steal, and then we'll see where things go from there, yeah?" she says, clearing her throat and retracting the claws. "Just... don't eat me, Miss Hellstrom."
Satana has posed:
"Oh dear," Satana says, visibly disappointed. She then shrugs. "Alright then. There's many other forms of foreplay. I'll stay within your boundaries. Unless you change your mind."

And that's an honest to goodness smirk paired with that second, languid wink.

"Which you probably will. I'm quite the devil with my tongue."

Something about that amuses her. It's unclear what.